Transfusion
by AspergianStoryteller
Summary: Tom is sick during training and with Jane stuck at work, Dragon must take care of his student. Warning: SPOILERS for books 4 and 5!


Transfusion

_Genre:_ Drama/Fantasy

_Summary:_ Tom is sick during training and with Jane stuck at work, Dragon must take care of his student. Warning: **SPOILERS** for books 4 and 5! Don't own 5 Lords of Pain_. _Or Nurofen. Or any Westlife music. Except a few CDs.

XXX xxx XXX

'Again.'

Tom groaned and picked his fists up.

'Ichi.'

'Hah!' _Thwack_ went fist against red, rubber punching bag.

'Nii.'

'Hah!' _Thwack! _

'San.'

_Gasp._ 'Hah!' Tom's strike was audibly weaker. Dragon frowned at his ten-year-old student.

'That was weak. You can do better.'

'Sorry, Sensei,' Tom panted.

'That's the fifth time today. Are you ill or are you just lazy?'

Tom sniffled.

'It's just a cold,' he said, wiping his nose on his hand. His face was red and sweaty.

Dragon surveyed the boy.

'... From the beginning. Ichi!'

'Hah!' _Thwack!_ The punching bag swung.

Twenty minutes later, Tom faltered during a kata and fell to his knees. Dragon sighed. There would no point pushing the boy when he was sick - it would only make him worse. Humans were weak like that.

'Sit down, Tom' he instructed. 'Practise is off for today.' Tom looked up at him, his face twisted in relief.

'Go sit down,' the Lord of Fire in disguise repeated, waving at the bench at the end of the dojo. Tom pushed himself up and scurried over to the bench. Dragon unhooked the punching bag from the ceiling and put it in the cupboard.

'Go change your clothes,' he said to Tom. The boy disppeared into the toilet with his backpack, and five minutes later, the groan and splash sounds of puking leaked into the dojo. Dragon had seen too many human secretions in his long life to be disgusted anymore, but his lip curled anyway.

_Flush... _

'Bye, Sensei,' Tom murmured when he emerged in his street clothes, a red jacket, jeans and sneakers. His legs wobbled as he crossed the wooden floor. He looked as though he might collapse any minute.

'Wait.' He really needed the Contest Champion _alive _now. Years of work would be wasted if the boy fainted on his way home and got run over by a car. 'I'll call your mother to come pick you up.'

'Don't bother,' Tom scowled. 'She won't be home from work yet. I can handle the bus.'

'You're in no condition to travel alone,' Dragon said. 'Your mother will have to come home early. Stay here.' He walked downstairs to his kitchen. It was wood panelled like the dojo above, and full of yet _more_ martial arts weapons. The room was modelled after the palace-like house he'd inhabited in Japan centuries ago. The oven was a square cut into the floor with a hook hanging from the ceiling where a cauldron or frying pan could be hung. Large, lavishly decorated cushions, a low table and full bookshelves filled most of the space. There was also a small television, which he used _only_ for news.

The Lord of Fire went to a small side table beside his pantry and picked up the phone. Interesting invention now he knew how to use it.

_'Oo bop bop baby, please, don't let me go. Can't live my life this way. Oo bop bop baby, please, just-' _

_'This is Jane Yamada speaking.'_

'This is Dragon.'

_'Dragon? Why are you calling? Has something happened?'_

'Tom has fallen ill. You need to pick him up.'

_'Ill? How ill?' _

'He's been sick. I've cancelled today's training.'

_'Ah. Hold on a minute...'_ Muffled voices came out the phone.

_'Dragon, I wish I could pick Tom up, but I'm in the middle of something very important right now. I'm sorry but can you please bring him home? I'll cover any transport costs. Any other time I'd do it, but I'm on thin ice now.' _

'... Alright.'

_'Thank you! I'll be home as soon as I can. Bye!' Beep._

XXX xxx XXX

They had been travelling for nearly ten minutes when Dragon was suddenly struck by what a peculiar situation he was in. He was sitting in the middle of a bus with a sniffily, red-faced Tom, surrounded by humans. The seats were faded yellow. Rain poured outside from a grey Londen sky. There were several teenagers in the back with loud voices and loud music blaring from their mobile phones and headphones. The stupid kids would deafen themselves. Humans of many different ages crowded the bus. An elderly couple sat in front of them. Two young girls in the row across. A middle-aged man _tap tap tapped_ on his laptop up the front while a younger man spoke into a smart looking cellphone across and three rows away.

'Ah, ah-' Tom quickly dug a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. 'Achoo!' He pressed his head against the bus window for a moment.

'When you are well again,' Dragon spoke up, 'we will practise incorperating that loud sneeze into your breathing exercises and kiai.' Tom blinked, surprised, and grinned.

XXX xxx XXX

Despite having on rain-proofed jackets, both Tom and Dragon were half-soaked during the one hundred meters between the bus stop and Tom's flat. Tom unlocked the door with fumbling fingers.

'Hullo, Tom. You're back early.'

Tom glanced at his neighbour of the second floor. She balanced a basket of laundry against her broad hips.

'I've got a cold,' he told her.

'Ah,' the middle-aged woman nodded. 'I hope you get better soon. And who is this?' she asked, taking notice of Dragon.

'This is Dragon. He's my violin teacher.' Dragon bowed his head.

'Taking the lesson home? Nice to meet you,' the woman smiled at Dragon. 'I'll bring you something nice after I've finished with my laundry, Tom.'

'Thanks.' He ducked inside.

'Margaret lives on the seond floor,' Tom explained as he hung his jacket in the hot-water cupboard. 'Here, put your wet clothes in here.' Dragon followed his student's example and placed his wet boots, socks and long coat on a clothes horse.

'Sometimes she gives us homemade food. It makes a nice change from microwave meals and take-aways. So, do you want some tea, Sensei? If you stay a while, you can have some Margaret's cooking.'

Dragon resisted the urge to laugh. A human child, the _Contest Champion_, was offering _him_, the Lord of Fire, tea and food!

'Tea would be excellent. Thank you, Tom.' He walked back to the kitchen while Tom changed into dry clothes.

'We have some old clothes of Dad's you can borrow if you like,' the boy said when he came back, glancing at Dragon's damp ones.

'I came prepared. There are dry clothes in my bag.' Jeans, a semi-formal shirt and an orangey-red jacket that was vaguely Asian for its wrap-around fit. The Lord of Fire _hated _being wet.

'Okay.'

XXX xxx XXX

_Knock knock_. 'Hello, Tom. It's me.' Tom opened the door.

'Hi, Margaret. Would you like to have tea with us? - I have a cold, though.'

'Yes, thanks. Don't worry about that cold though, I've just had one. You probably caught it off me.'

Dragon put down _National Geographic_ and set a metal tea pot and three cups on the round table. Margaret placed something wrapped in tinfoil on a bench and a plate of pastries on the table. They sat down.

It was quiet for a minute. Dragon sipped his from his teacup, a delicate porcelain thing painted blue, white and grey, while his eyes roamed the kitchen. It was far more modern than his own, with a stainless steel fridge and sink, microwave and oven, benchtop littered with a phone, fax machine, framed photo and paperworks. The floor, ceiling and walls were older though; wooden, reminders of the house's age.

'How is your mum, Tom?' Margaret asked. 'I haven't seen much of her lately.'

'She's okay. She's been really busy at work.' Tom frowned into his tea cup. Obviously he was upset about her long hours away at the bank.

'Ah. And how about you? What have you been up to at school? Are you doing any big projects?'

'The school talent show is coming up.' Tom sniffled. 'My teacher reckons I should enter, play my violin.' He smiled to himself.

'I'll come and listen if you do,' said Margaret. Tom actually could play the violin; well enough to keep from being caught out. So could Dragon.

XXX xxx XXX

After the neighbour Margaret left, promising to check in later, Tom flopped onto a couch and watched telly. Dragon allowed this for a while as he read and waited for Jane Yamada to return. After an hour, he phoned her again, but his call went to her voicemail thing. They had dinner, (the food under the tinfoil turned out to be a sheppard's pie) and Dragon tried Jane's phone again.

'How much longer will your mother be at work?' he asked Tom.

'Probably ages.' Tom sighed loudly. 'Especially if she's got loads of work to do. She probably won't be back 'til late tonight.' He glanced at the floor for a moment, then back at Dragon. 'You don't have to stay here, Sensei. I'm okay. Thanks for bringing me home.'

Dragon watched a red flush steadily creep over Tom's face and neck. He wasn't sure it wise to leave the boy alone. It wasn't likely he would get hurt in his own home, but then, humans were terribly frail when it came to getting sick. What if it turned out to be something serious? He didn't know too much about human sickness- he was hardly ever ill, and it had nothing to do with his duels.

'I will stay a while longer,' he said aloud.

'You don't have too, Sensei, it's just a cold-'

'My decision is made. Now prepare yourself for bed.'

'What? It's only-'

'Now!' Tom got off the couch quickly and scurried to his bedroom. Dragon turned the television off and listened to the _brush, brush, brush_ of teeth being cleaned and clothes rustling. He brought a glass of water to the boy and asked if there was any cold medicine for him to take.

'Normally Mum gives me a kids' Nurofen to swallow when I have a cold,' he said, taking the water. They're the pills in the silver box in the medicine cabinet.' Dragon found them and gave Tom one, which he gulped down with a grimace.

'Thanks, Sensei.' He put the glass on a bedside cabinet and wiggled down under his blankets awkwardly. The blankets were red with the picture of a famous human martial artist on them.

'You may read quietly until eight,' Dragon said. 'I will be in the lounge.' Tom pouted. Dragon winked at him.

'And don't even think of sneaking up, unless you need the toilet - I can hear you breathing from out there.'

XXX xxx XXX

A few hours later saw Dragon still reading (he was onto another issue of the magazine now) in the lounge. As the sky outside grew darker, Margaret had come back to check on Tom and collect her pie dish, Tom had been to the toilet and Jane called to say she was on her way home - an hour and a half ago. Dragon wasn't sure if her delay was the result of horrible traffic or the increasingly heavy storm outside. Pehaps both.

When a thunder clap brought his thoughts back from Africa he slipped into Tom's room to see if he was asleep yet. The boy's eyes were closed and a book and his mobile were scattered over his covers. Tom's face was still flushed but otherwise he didn't seem any worse than before, so Dragon quietly put the book and phone on a bedside table and slipped out.

_Bring! Bring! ... Bring! bring! ... Bring - click._

'This is Dragon.'

_'Oh, Dragon, you're still there!'_ Jane exclaimed._ 'I'm so sorry - I should have been back before now, but the traffic's awful tonight, and the road__s have been closed because of the storm. I think something got washed up. I don't know how long it's going to take me to get home.' _Dragon could hear the hiss of rain behind her voice.

'I understand.' Of course he did. Years of experience ment that one learnt to take little things like this in stride. Sometimes one could even turn it to one's advantage.

_'How is Tom?' _

'He is asleep now.'

_'Oh, good.' Hssshhh... _

_'Listen, Dragon, thank you for staying with Tom all this time. You're welcome to stay the night instead of going out in the rain.' _

'Thank you, Jane. I will do that.'

_'Okay. There's a spare matress in the linen cupboard if you want it, and sleeping bags. Make yourself at home and I'll be back as soon as I can. Bye!' _

Dragon made his bed in the lounge and went to check on Tom again.

But Tom had deteriorated in the last several minutes. His skin was bright red and clammy. Dragon pressed his fingers to the boy's neck. A pulse was there, but it felt fluttery.

Ah, kuso. Humans were not supposed to be that warm. Dragon knew that. He also knew that when they were really ill, humans went to visit a healer - they called them doctors and nurses now - at a hospital. There was even a special phone number for summoning a doctor to your home. 911. But was Tom's condition serious enough? Chikuso if he knew.

In the end, he decided to call 999, to be safe.

_Beeeeeeeeeeeeep... ... ..._

What the Hell did that mean? Was the phone broken?

Dragon tried using Tom's mobile phone. It didn't work either.

'Naze kore ga okotte imasu ka?' he muttered in Japanese. _Why is this happening? _English was a language he had learnt from scrying Earth inbetween duels, mastered with years of living in England. He could also speak Mexican and say phrases in Italian like 'Mind that pizza!' and 'The cafe is always busy!'

Tom moaned in his sleep. Dragon pressed his pulse again.

_Blip... Blip... Bli-blip... ... Blip..._

'Kamigami wa chanpion ga shinu shitaidesu ka?' _Do the gods want the Champion to die?_ Think! Tom must not die. Dragon's years of hard work would be wasted if Tom died years before the Contest even started.

Think. How could he make Tom well again? More _Nurofen_? It hadn't done anything much the first time! Ice? Herbs?

He searched the cupboards for anything that looked related to healing.

A first aid kit, _Nurofen_ for children, plain _Nurofen_, anticeptic cream, burn gel... _Organic Herbs for Healthy Life_. The box was green and covered in kanji.

_These herbs can be taken in tea, water, warm milk and even be stirred into smoothies! The natural organic goodness of willowbark, ginger, lavender and more (see full list on back) is proven to reduce fevers, flush out impurities such as carbon monoxide, calm headaches and improve your general health__._

Alright. This was good. He'd make Tom a cup of tea with these herbs. The box was still half full.

Five minutes later Dragon carried a cup of ginger tea into Tom's room and set it on his bedside table.

'Tom,' he murmured. 'Tom, wake up.' He shook the boy's shoulder. There was no response.

'Tom.' Dragon spoke louder and shook harder. 'Tom, you must wake up for a minute.' Maybe he could open Tom's mouth and pour the tea in himself?

Doing this required him to hold Tom's jaws open with one hand while pouring tea in with the other - a bit at a time so he could shut Tom's mouth, put down the cup and rub his throat to make him swallow.

Dragon had never been so close to human without trying to kill them before. Tom's exposed throat felt frail and warm in his grasp. The fluttery pulse blipping under his fingers tempted him to squeeze, to sink his long claws - _nails_ in.

_Blip, blip,_ his fingers twitched.

Control, Dragon told himself. Breath in, ichi, ni, san... out, ichi, ni, san...

He relaxed his fingers and put the empty cup down. When he lifted his hand, however... now _what _was that?

There was a rash creeping up Tom's skin. Not fever red. A rash, for it was spotty. And blotchy. What did that signify?

Somehow it had crept up Tom's chest and right arm without Dragon noticing. If he wasn't the powerful archdemon Lord of Fire, he would have thought it sinister. So he told himself.

Think. Fever, puking, weak pulse and now a rash. What did these symptoms mean? What exactly was wrong with Tom?

The medicine had not worked. The tea didn't seem to either.

The phones were not working. Jane could not get back. Tom was weakening.

'Watashi wa nani o suruda?' _What am I to do?_ Dragon paced between Tom's bed and the wall opposite, stepping over a football and violin case. He knew nothing about healing. Why should he? Demons were rarely ill, healed fast and he could always rebuild his body anew. The few demons who knew anything about human healing, back when they shared Earth world were in Hell, way out of his reach now.

Snarling with frustration, he walked back to the bed and checked Tom's pulse again.

_Blip... Blip..._

Wait. There was one thing. One thing he remembered.

Blood-sharing. Like the blood-transfusions performed at the humans' hospitals, a demon could revive another demon, or a human with his blood.

Of course, it had happened so rarely, Dragon was surprised he even remembered it. Demons and humans had kept to themsleves in the old days before the warring. It was a ridiculous idea. A demon giving their blood to a pathetic human! And could it even work?

Dragon stole a glance at Tom's ailing body on the bed.

Perhaps it _had_ to work.

'Kore wa kamigami ga yatte iru baai, karera wa ikatteiru.' _If this is the gods' doing, they are mad._ 'Kore wa okotte imasu.' _This is mad. _

Decided, Dragon quickly laid kitchen paper over Tom's blanket and laid the boy's left wrist over them. He carefully cut the small wrist open at the vein with his sharpest nail, the right middle. Bright red blood dribbled out immediately and Tom moaned in his sleep. Then he slit his own wrist open, hardly believing what he was doing, and pressed their bleeding arms together, fingers intwined.

Red mingled and slid down their skin. A metallic smell permeated the air.

_Blip... blip... blip..._

And Dragon's skin was tingling.

Tom's fingers twitched.

'Ahhh...'

'Come on,' Dragon muttered. '_Heal_, Tom. You _must_ survive this.' He tightened his fingers.

Tom moaned and wiggled restlessly in his bed. His bleeding arm jerked and nearly came off the paper towels. Beneath the blood his veins bulged and writhed.

'Ngh!'

Dragon held Tom's hand for nearly twenty minutes while he sweated, whimpered and figeted in his bed. When he went quiet and still, Dragon decided it was time to stop the bleeding (and check that Tom hadn't died).

'Oh-' the carpeted floor spun under his socks. He put a hand on the bedside table. Deep breaths. That had taken a lot more energy out of him than he had anticipated.

Dragon looked across at Tom. To his relief, the boy was still breathing, though his skin was pink all over. It looked like a healthier pink, however, so Dragon was able to clean them both up and hide the bloodied paper towels in the rubbish without panicking. Finally he collapsed onto his matress in the lounge and crawled into the sleeping bags; he hadn't needed a good sleep so badly since winter.

What would happen now? he wondered as darkness filled his mind. What might his demon energy do to Tom tonight?

XXX xxx XXX

_Tap, tap, tap,_ Jane Yamada's smart black shoes went over the wooden floorboards. Her umbrella slid neatly into the umbrella stand by the door, which muffled the rain outside when it shut.

'Tom?' she called quietly. 'Tom, are you up?' There was no answer. The flat was quiet, except for weather drumming against the roof and walls and windows.

She found a box of herbal tea on the bench and decided to make herself a cup. Gods knew she needed it.

Soon a cup of wonderful, ginger smelling tea was steaming in Jane's hand and she sipped it as she walked. Shoes off by the door, jacket off - not too wet. The storm had calmed down to a steady downpour not long ago.

In the lounge she found a pale, exhausted looking Dragon curled up in two sleeping bags.

_I've never seen him looking so tired before,_ she thought. _I hope he hasn't caught whatever Tom has._

When she went into Tom's room, stepping over his violin case, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Suddenly fearful, she plonked the tea cup down on the bedside table and knelt at her son's side.

Tom's face was pink and sweaty, there was a fading rash receeding down his chest, but he was breathing evenly. Jane stroked his brown hair.

'Hey Tom,' she whispered. 'I'm home now. I know you get upset that I'm away at work so long. And I'm sorry, if it were possible right now I'd be home every evening.'

Jane sat on Tom's bed and stayed there stroking his hair and whispering and sipping her gingery tea until the cup was empty. Tomorrow, she decided, she'd do her work from home, have an admin day, and take care of Tom while he rested. Maybe Dragon too.

Alright. That would be tomorrow. Tonight, it was time to sleep. Past everybody's bedtimes.

Jane kissed her son goodnight and crept out of his room.

XXX xxx XXX

I think I'll leave this as a oneshot for now, however, I may do a continuation or sequel in the future. In the books, Dragon has an unpredictable tendency to mood swing from fun and friendly strict and angry. I hope I've done a decent job on that?

People in Britain - I grew up in New Zealand. If the characters (most of whom are English) aren't speaking like English people, let me know please.

Translations:

Ichi = One, ni = two, san = three, Sensei = teacher, kuso = damn, chikusho = fuck or shit, I think.


End file.
